Reaction Time
by Marianne Bennet
Summary: When the Exile finds some new friends on Nar Shaddaa that are all too happy to tell her about the past of one of her companions, Atton finds himself beleagured by questions, inquiries, and accusations during the flight to Korriban. One-shot. R


Reaction Time

For several days now, ever since she'd first approached him about his past, Atton had been wondering what Arikal's reaction would be. But now upon seeing her expressionless face, he was beginning to wonder if she was going to have any visible reaction at all or if the information had even registered with her. Her violet eyes, usually flickering and dancing across the room, even in a "safe" place like the garage on the _Ebon Hawk_, were still with a lack of movement that disturbed Atton, making the pilot feel uneasy. It was so unlike the Exile to stand so still with her fists clenched at her sides when Arikal usually employed the fluid grace of a dancer to her movements and to the way she carried herself. Atton knew who to blame for her sudden anger; not himself but instead that stupid Twi'leck for kindly informing the Jedi Exile of her comrade's dark past. It had happened in the Refugee Sector; of course it had happened in the Refugee Sector! That was, after all, the place Arikal had been spending the most time these past few days since they'd met up with the Jedi Master on Nar Shaddaa. Atton could've told her something about lying low and how running around committing random acts of kindness was not the way to go about. But he also suspected that Arikal had been using the misery of the refugees as her excuse to Kreia for not moving immediately on to Korriban and anything that made Kreia angry made Atton happy. But then, when he'd just begun to hope that he'd outrun his past, that blasted Twi'leck had shown up and ruined everything and since the exile was so damn persistent, as Bao-Dur liked to put it, she hadn't let it drop once these past few days. And so Atton had let it all spill out of him, honesty coming out in little white puffs of air in the frigid air filtered in through the _Ebon Hawk's _ventilation system. And then, resisting the urge to lean up against the never used swoop bike, in perhaps the lamest conclusion to a confession ever made, he said, "So… yeah. Are you mad?"

"Am I mad?" she repeated after him flatly. And just when Atton was about to breathe a quick sigh of relief, her small white hand whipped back and then came crashing across his face followed closely by an all too familiar smarting pain. Atton rubbed his nose, wondering if the Force could super-power a Jedi's slap because he felt as though his nose could be broken, and said without thinking, "Force, Arikal, did I really deserve that?"

He instantly regretted his words. Arikal's "Jedi compunction," as he liked to mockingly call it, hadn't prevented her from slapping him the first time and Atton was pretty much certain that, given the slightest provocation, she probably would do it again. He threw up his hands in a precautionary defense, his stance echoing a long forgotten Echani training. "Hold it, Catz," he said, throwing up his affectionate nickname for her like a secondary defense. He had given that name to her after deciding how much he hated it every time the Disciple called her by her full first name. Somehow, hearing her full name, "Arikal Lin," so often had made the exile seem strange and different to Atton. It had given her an edge, made her seem hard and glittering and Atton had felt that giving her a nickname like "Catz" made Arikal see more… human. Today, Atton threw up both his hands and her nickname like a shield, hoping that Arikal did not use every bit of her Force power to shove him into the swoop bike.

The fury in her eyes decreased gradually in increments as the moments passed before she spoke again and when she did speak, it was in a much more level tone than Atton had expected. "Am I mad?" she repeated a second time as though still trying to absorb the information. "Didn't I just prove that? Force, Atton, what did you expect?"

As if on cue, Kreia's words echoed in Atton's head. _If she is Jedi, she will forgive. If she is not, she will not care. _So much for forgiveness. "Um…" Atton said, unsure of what he should say. "Well, you wanted to know and since I know so much about your past, I figured that you might deserve to know about mine."

Arikal laughed a little at that and the sound of her high peal of laughter took Atton by surprise. Of all the things he had expected Arikal to do, he had not suspected that she would find the situation humorous. But now that she was laughing, he did begin to find something funny about the thought of Atton Rand swearing his allegiance to _anyone _let alone the Sith when he threatened to desert his post as pilot nearly every other day. Awkwardly, he started to laugh a little too but stopped when he watched Arikal's eyes narrow. At least this time when she slapped him, he was prepared for the sting.

"Sorry," she said after a moment's thought but Atton knew that she wasn't.

_From the data pad of Arikal Lin, Jedi Exile_

_I suppose that it started out innocently enough, if you can call being told that one of the people you choose to hang out with is a murderer "innocent." It's not as though I didn't know that Atton had a troubled past, if that's what you call it. I mean, I knew that there had to be a reason for the Pazaak in his head and a reason for his love of a place that you can get lost in, not to mention the Echani training plus the fact that I found him locked up in a cell. Sometimes, it seems to me that everyone on this ship has something that they're trying to hide and in that I am in no way different. Maybe that's just the kind of people that are drawn to me: broken people like me. But Atton had always seemed so careless with his words, so cavalier with everything he say ,that I was sure that if he had some big dark secret, it would have slipped out by now. Turns out that I'm not always right about these things. Who would have guessed?_

_I can hear him shuffling his feet his feet in the cockpit and I can hear the flick of a card, a quick mutter of a curse if the card isn't what he wanted and, beside him, Bao-Dur 's calm breathing has he guides the ship towards Korriban. Strange that its Atton's movements that interests me more than those of my faithful tech who still calls me "General." But I can only hear Atton if I want to. I'm in the _Ebon Hawk _security room, with only a single wall between the two of us, and even if he were to shout out my name like a baying kath hound, I could lock the door and pretend that he never called. I can choose whether or not I listen to Atton Rand, can't I?_

_If you're wondering why I'm in the security room at two o'clock in the morning ( at least it's two in Nar Shaddaa; no idea what time it is on Korriban right now) it's because Kreia and Visas each claimed their own dormitory. Nobody wants to share with them and nobody has the guts to kick either of them out. So, Mandalore and Bao-Dur camp out on cots in the garage and Mical keeps to the medical bay. Mira and I have claimed the security room and more often than not, Atton falls asleep in the pilot's chair. Every once in a while, he'll drag himself out into the garage for some "male bonding" as Mira likes to call it but I have a feeling that he'll keep to himself tonight._

_I'm still have issues putting words to exactly what he has done and to exactly the way I'm feeling about him right now. Disappointed seems too kind and betrayed too condemning and depressed… too pathetic. But I feel pathetic. I'm pathetic because he told me the truth and hoped for forgiveness and I didn't give it to him. That's not what a Jedi should do. But that gets me into a big interior argument about what a Jedi is and isn't and what a Jedi does or doesn't and whether I am a Jedi or not and I don't want to talk about that right now. But that's the best thing about data pads, right? They never run out of space like paper does and they never talk back to you cryptically like certain individuals I know. Maybe if I were to look at things one at a time and think them through, give myself the time I wasn't granted when all of this fell on top of my head so quickly so I had to react without thinking, I can muddle all of this out and figure out where things went wrong._

_Alright. I dragged Mandalore and Atton with me to go and meet my third Jedi and then into the Refugee Sector. Atton hadn't wanted to go and, come to think of it, I don't think I've ever brought him along to meet either Master Vrook or Master Kavar either. So, this would have been the first Jedi that Atton has ever met… or at least, met without the sudden desire to wring their necks but I shouldn't think about that now. Maybe bringing Atton along was a mistake but Kreia and Visas attract too much attention wandering around Nar Shaddaa with me and I… and I like to have Atton watching my back in a dangerous place like the Smuggler's Moon._

_Well, anyways, we met up with the Jedi and Mira said she'd meet us at the _Hawk _so there was at least one thing taken care of. But I'd promised my help to a few refugees and I hadn't given it yet so I was looking around for them when Atton nudged me and said, "Look, Catz, there's a guy who wants to play Pazaak. Let me go and play a game. Or two games." _

_I closed my eyes for a moment and then said in my most Jedi-like voice, "I don't really want you to win credits off of people who need them more than we do."_

"_I'm not going to take his money, Catz," replied Atton after a moment's careful deliberation on how best to convince me. Or at least I think that was what he was doing behind the Pazaak game already going on inside of his head. "I'm going to lose but I am going to lose slowly and carefully and only by a couple of points so that the refugee will still think I'm good, just not as good as he is. And," at this point, he seemed very pleased with himself, "it'll be _your _money I lose so we can all attribute this good deed to you. Plus, the refugee who 'wins' will gain newfound self-respect because he will have defeated the illustrious Pazaak player, Atton Rand. And of course he'll be getting the winnings."_

"_And you can foresee all of this?" I asked skeptically, doubting him like I always do and like anyone with a care for their wellbeing should, especially Jedi it seems._

_He smiled cockily. "I can foresee that I will be counting the cards."_

_I sighed and shook my head as I forked over a small handful of credits. Perhaps giving up that money was the only beneficial thing I've done these past few days. But I still had to doubt his strategy. "Won't losing to you just encourage that refugee to gamble even more and next time he'll gamble to someone who isn't willing to lose so easily?"_

_Atton flashed a sympathetic grin, saying, "Oh, probably. I should think that that's the way of the galaxy. But we get ten points for trying, right? We are trying, you know."_

_And then he went off by himself. At that, I should have realized that this spontaneous desire to play Pazaak was more like a calculated move to evade those two Twi'lecks that were staring at not just me but also at Atton. I paid no attention to them; I was busy watching Atton's retreating back and repeating, "Yes, we are trying, at least."_

_I had a feeling that Mandalore wanted to say something; I'm not sure how I knew this, since he's totally encased in armor but maybe it was just my senses returning slowly but surely. But then that annoying Twi'leck came up and said, "Human! I have a word of advice for you," before I could get a word out of my mouth towards Mandalore._

_I may not have spent much time on the Smuggler's Moon but I've been here long enough to recognize that advice on Nar Shaddaa is not often without some price. Already, I was digging into my pockets for a couple more credits. "Yes? What is it you'd like to tell me?"_

_The newcomer shook his head upon seeing the money in my open palm, crimson lekku waggling with the movement of his head. "I do not expect you to pay for information you have a right to know," he stated, enunciating clearly in accented Huttese as though doubting my ability to understand him. "You are traveling with that man," he said, nodding over my shoulder. I turned around to see what he was gesturing to and could barely hear the sound of Mandalore hoisting his rifle as soon as my back was turned. I looked to see what he saw and I only saw Atton with his back turned away from us, kneeling on the floor and playing Pazaak. I turned back, felt Mandalore relax now that my eyes were on the Twi'leck again, and nodded._

_My informant looked frightened, frightened of me, Mandalore, or Atton I still don't know. His amber eyes, set in the deeply creased folds of laugh lines, glanced down at the silver lightsaber that hung unconcealed from my belt along with various other items. He looked back up at me with pity and, in that moment, I hated him. I don't like to be looked at with pity. I am an exile; I take care of myself. I take pity on others; others are not supposed to take pity on me. I hated that day all of those weeks ago when T3 uploaded that record of my trial and subsequent exile and then showed it to everyone. I hated the look on Bao-Dur's face, hated the way Kreia spoke to me for the rest of the journey to Onderon. When this Twi'leck saw my lightsaber and looked at me with pity, I hated him. And then he said:_

"_Look: if I were a Jedi or really anyone with a care for my life, I would neither trust nor travel with that man."_

_Once again, I followed his gaze. "Are you talking about Atton?" I demanded._

"_If that is what he has told you his name is, then, yes. We," he indicated a blue Twi'leck that stood a few feet away from him, "knew him by that name as well. I am speaking of 'Atton.' We knew him. He came here not too long ago. We made the mistake of trusting him; it is not a mistake we are going to repeat. He said that he was a soldier, a displaced veteran, but that is a lie. He is no soldier; he is a murderer."_

"_What?" I said urgently as I turned and saw that Atton was getting up from his game already. "Murderer?" I repeated._

_But both the Twi'leck and his companion had already departed, leaving Mandalore and I alone and, at least in my case, very confused. "What was that about?" Atton had returned before I'd even had a moment to collect my thoughts and decide what to do. "Who was that?" Apparently, he was full of questions. "Another refugee? Aren't they beginning to bother you a little?"_

_And there was that damn thing again: pity. I sighed and shook my head. "No. Not yet anyways. Well, maybe. Maybe just this one. He told me a funny thing about you."_

"_Well, whatever he told you, it can wait until later. We've got enough problems right now. Look," he nodded towards a pair of Exchange thugs. "That refugee I played Pazaak with told me that those goons are looking for us. I say we get back to the ship and come back later for whatever you need to do."_

_Maybe I should have listened to him. There are more important things to take care of right now than the case of Atton Rand's past. But that Twi'leck had dropped me a clue and I wasn't about to let it go unused. So, that night I…_

"Back at the Refugee Sector, I didn't mention that I met someone who thinks he knows you, did I?"

Damn, she wouldn't let it go. Atton mentally cursed as he observed Arikal through her reflection where it was painted upon the windows of the cockpit. She was leaning against the doorframe, dressed in a worn Jedi tunic, pants, and boots, with her blond hair loose around her face. Her focus though was not directed towards Atton but rather to the galaxy map on the wall beside her as she absentmindedly picked out planets with her fingertips, tracing old hyperspace routes with her hand splayed out across the galaxy. As he turned towards her, he thought that he saw her thumb linger over Malachor V's image on the screen before she turned the map off and looked to him. "I'm sorry," she said and Atton thought that he could detect some unevenness in her voice. "I said that I met someone who said that he knows you."

"Really," he answered in return. "Someone who knows little old me? Here? On Nar Shaddaa, the one place in the galaxy that I know best? Let me guess: he said I owe him credits too." When she did not answer immediately, he added, "You can't take every pretentious schutta's words of wisdom at face value, sweetheart. That is definitely the most surefire way to lose a game of Pazaak."

"He said that your name isn't Atton at all." That made Atton look up in surprise. "He said that you're a murderer. Somehow, I don't think that this is a Pazaak game, _sweetheart_."

"Murderer?" he repeated, forcing a smirk to cross his face. "Of all of the possibilities, of all of the things he could call me, he chose that? Not 'scoundrel,' 'rake,' 'notorious ladies' man?' Not even 'most handsome pilot in the galaxy?' Even with presented with all of these options, he chose to call me 'murderer?' I hope that you defended me, princess."

"You don't call me 'princess,'" the exile responded reprovingly. "Don't call me 'sweetheart' either. I have a name, Atton, and I'd have a care to use it if I were you. Besides, I didn't have a chance to defend you. Not that I necessarily would," she added hastily. "I've seen you cut down enough Exchange thugs, mercenaries, and Sith assassins to know that you're no innocent to combat. But a murderer?"

"And what do you think of them?" asked Atton before he could stop himself. "What do you, Arikal Lin, think of those Exchange thugs and Sith assassins? Do you count the thugs here on Nar Shaddaa to be murderers? I've seen them shoot down dozens of refugees, dozens of innocents. What about Mandalore and his buddies on Dxun? You went to war against them."

Arikal set her mouth into one thin grim line. "That was war. War is different."

"How so?" Atton demanded. "And what defines a 'war?' What about those Sith assassins you mentioned? The Sith are –were claiming that they were waging war on the Republic and even though their numbers have dwindled down to a few crummy assassins on a deserted warship do they count as murderers or as warriors fighting for a cause, no matter what that cause is. Are those assassins we met on the _Harbinger _different too?" He knew that associating Sith assassins with murderers was a mistake from the moment it escaped his lips. He should never have allowed the phrase "Sith assassin" to enter Arikal's mind in the first place. He hit himself, mentally of course. Maybe he'd smack himself on the forehead later but to do so in front of Arikal would be an even bigger mistake.

But Arikal didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. Who knows, maybe he always behaved this erratically? Still, he awaited her answer with anticipation even if he put up a display of casual indifference. And then she said bitterly, "Anyone who fought in the Mandalorian Wars would know that there is killing and then there is _killing. _And in my opinion, murder is of the second kind. The Sith and their assassins fight with no honor. You were in the war, right?"

"Why would you think that?" Atton replied cautiously.

She yawned, apparently unconcerned. "I don't know. You're a man of that age. I guess I assume that most men skilled in combat are veterans. And then there's that Echani training that remains unaccounted for. You also seem to know your way around the refugee sector pretty well which leads me to believe that you've been there before, which you just confirmed that you have. And Nar Shaddaa is top full of veterans and deserters. Did I mention the Echani training?"

"Oh," said Atton. "Oh, that. Well, what can I say? I'm a deserter. That's what we do." Which wasn't really an answer at all.

"You deserted the Mandalorian Wars?" He could hear the evident disapproval in her voice.

"No," he replied softly, "I didn't desert _that _war. Look, princess, sweetheart, Catz, Arikal, whatever you don't want me to call you, I've got to get some shuteye and I suggest that you do the same. Now, I would retire to my chambers _if I had any _but since I don't, the cockpit is my territory and you need to get out. As much as I adore my fantasies of you and me playing midnight Pazaak games on Nar Shaddaa, _where Nar Shaddaa rules apply, _they're going to have to stay fantasies because you look so tired that you could be Kreia and I do not enjoy card games with walking talking corpses. Yeah, I know you heard that you Dark Side witch!" he called down the hallway into the main room, evidently talking to Kreia. Arikal could hear the older woman's audible sniff through the Force bond between them. Atton fixed his eyes on the exile. "Off with you and go complain to Mira if you must about my little desertion."

_That night, I had dreams and nightmares of Sith assassins who pulled off their shiny silver masks and dark hoods to reveal Atton's features and of Atton shedding his ridged vest for the robe of a Dark Jedi. I saw him kneel at the fight of a dark robed Sith lord with an all too familiar bronze mask and watched as Revan laid her hand upon his head and whispered some dark secret into his ear. Like a fool, I paid it absolutely no attention and blamed its apparent absurdity on all of the stress I'm feeling these days. A dream is just a dream, right?_

_When I went down to breakfast the next morning, I could tell that Kreia knew about my dream. It was one of the few times I've never seen her bring herself to be somewhat decent towards Atton. It was almost as though she had taken pity on him and I guess I was blinded by relief that Kreia was feeling sorry for anyone besides me._

_I went out that day with Atton and Bao-Dur. To be honest as a Jedi should always be, I was hoping that Atton would let something slip. Looking back, I'm wondering if I should have just let it all go…_

"So… do you recognize anyone here from the wars?" Arikal asked as Atton paused to kneel down and adjust his shoe.

Atton grimaced as he got back up and scratched his head. Damn it, not again. In response, he shrugged and said, "Apparently, you've met more people here that supposedly know me than I have." Then in a quieter tone, hoping to divert her attention, he remarked casually, "You know, most people on the smuggler's moon including the refugees aren't the best of people and sometimes they aren't here for the best of reasons. Yet you help them anyways. Why?"

Arikal smiled a little, saying in the most reasonable of tones as they entered the Entertainment Plaza, "They may as well be given a chance to fix their lives. They deserve that chance no matter what they do with it." Then, more hesitantly: "Is there anything you'd like to tell me, Atton?"

"If I wanted to tell you something you wouldn't have to be asking about it," he snapped in return. "You know, somehow I've been feeling like these past few days have just been one long interrogation with a couple of breaks for sleeping. Only without the cages and the torture droids. But if this is supposed to be an interrogation, you're positively the worst interrogator in the galaxy. Even for a Jedi. Especially for a Jedi. And since you're not in your underwear, I'm not about to answer every one of your ridiculous questions that I can make neither head nor tail of. Got it?"

Bao-Dur chuckled under his breath. "I think that you'll find, Atton, that the general can be very… persistent."

He scowled at that. "Really? I would not have known that. Look, Bao-Dur, it's not as though I don't trust you and your lovely general but… yeah, I don't trust you. And we can't all sulk in the garage because we aren't droids."

"Whatever, Atton," said Bao-Dur. "If you need me, general, I'll be in the cantina. Getting a drink. Droids don't drink juma, Atton, but one thing that droids and I have in common is that we do notice when a bottle or two has been stolen from under our beds. Think on that."

Sighing with apparent frustration, Arikal rubbed her temples. "Go ahead, Bao-Dur. Not so fast, Atton," she added sharply as Atton made a move to follow Bao-Dur to the cantina. Regarding Atton with a glare, she asked, "And just what was that supposed to be?" Instead of replying, Atton turned away and began an enthralling round of Pazaak inside his head because he had just been robbed of a real game. Reaching out and hearing this, Arikal decided to change tactics and said bluntly, "You said you were a deserter and I'm guessing that that's the reason you first came to Nar Shaddaa. But you also said that didn't desert the Mandalorian Wars. You deserted the Jedi Civil War, didn't you?"

Slowly, unwillingly, he nodded. "But I had good reason to."

"You deserted the Jedi Civil War," she repeated as though daring him to say otherwise. As though wanting him to say otherwise. "You deserted the Republic."

"Hold on there, Catz," said Atton with a forced laugh, still trying to brush all of this off while still telling the truth, trying to deflect Arikal's aims before she delved a little too deeply into his conflicted past. "I never said anything about being on the Republic's side."

Atton saw Arikal's jaw drop a little at this new piece of information. "You were a _Sith_?" she said incredulously and then proceeded to pronounce the next few words with deliberate emphasis. "But you hate the Sith; I've heard what you call Kreia. Why would you –how _could _you be one of them?"

"You mean 'how could I have _been_ one of them,'" Atton corrected her quietly. "I was a Sith; I'm not one anymore if you haven't noticed. And I don't hate very Sith; I just hate Kreia. And if I hate anything, I hate the Jedi," he said with a quiet venom that surprised and hurt Arikal; he could see it in her violet eyes. Suddenly struck by a strong desire to hurt Arikal, to inflict pain on her with his words because he could not do so with his hands, to hurt her the way he was hurt every time she turned her back on him, every time she chose Mical's company over his, he continued, "I hate Jedi because they spy and scheme and put their thoughts into your head. At least the Sith are up front about what they do. With the Jedi, their true motives are always hidden behind honeyed words of 'peace' and 'knowledge.'"

Arikal's lower lip quivered but she lifted her chin as she responded. "So, it's be that you hate, Atton."

"What? No, I don't hate you!" He instantly regretted his words. "Think of Atris! Think of the way she exiled you just because she didn't know what you were. Remember how she locked me and the others up just because she knew it would hurt you! 'For our safety,' she said. We're safer with you then we could ever be with her. But she hides behind her words. You're not like that. You're up front; you say what you feel. You don't try and smother your emotions; you let yourself feel them and you don't let them consume you. You're different. You're not one of them."

"Well, maybe I wanted to be one of them!" she burst out. "Would you hate me then? Maybe you don't understand what I'm doing here, what I'm trying to do, or maybe I'm just doing a really bad job of it. I'm trying to become one of them, one of those do-gooder Jedi you hate!" Arikal took a deep shuddering breath and went on, "For most of my life, before I was exiled, Atris was my teacher, my mentor, my idol, my friend, my would-be sister, my foster mother. You hate her and perhaps you have good reason to do so and there is a part of me that hates her for what she did to me too. But for years and years I loved her like a daughter loves a mother and _I wanted to be her_. So, go ahead and hate me too, Atton, but someone has to fly the ship. But I don't want to see you again until tomorrow morning!"

And with that said, Arikal took off towards the refugee sector and Atton was left feeling very much as though he should have called her back, told her everything, and then sworn that he did not hate her. But he did not. He let her go.

_He let me go. It was a good thing that he did too. There was a part of me that wanted to let him have a chance to explain himself but there was another part, a much larger part, that wanted him to leave me alone. When he revealed his… dislike of the Jedi, there was something in him that I could see that scared me, me, a Jedi Exile who has seen almost everything that the galaxy has to offer… or to refuse. It was as though he wanted to choke the life out of me until I coughed up whatever truth he wanted me to tell, as though I were some elaborate weaving like the ones that I saw on Onderon and he wanted to unravel me until he only had thread in my hands, to see what I was really made of. He scared me and I told him to go away. He did what I asked and I spent the rest of that day not speaking to him once._

_That night was the night we left for Korriban. I hid myself away in the engine room, leaning up against the hyperdrive and listening to its hum when I dimly heard footsteps pattering down the hall and then into the room. "Mira," I said without opening my eyes. "Is something wrong?"_

"_So I'm guessing that you're the reason that our pilot has decided to drink himself into oblivion," she said without any other preamble or greeting as she took a swig of juma herself from the bottle in her hand. She then passed it to me._

"_Drinking himself into oblivion? That doesn't bode well for a safe trip to Korriban," I remarked mildly as I accepted the bottle and took a sip. "I do hope that _someone _levelheaded has taken over the controls."_

_Mira smiled. "Oh, you don't have to worry about the safety of your trip to Korriban. Bao-Dur took the controls over while Mandalore and I grabbed Atton and shoved him into the refresher, clothes and all. I locked the door because he seemed to like the water as much as a cat does. He's alright now. We put him to bed in the garage. Mandalore was laughing the entire time." She hesitated. "I wasn't laughing. I didn't think it was funny. You see drunks on Nar Shaddaa all of the time, stumbling around the docks. But when people are drunk, the alcohol supposedly releases all of their inhibitions, reveals their true nature. And if those were Atton's true feelings, he's pretty damn miserable under all of that sarcasm."_

"_What do you mean?" I asked, worried despite myself. "Was he saying anything… strange?"_

_The huntress had the grace to look uncomfortable. "I'm not sure I should tell you. Whatever Atton was talking about, it seemed pretty personal to him and I don't think that he even knew what he was saying. If I tell you, you have to promise that you'll go and talk to him when he wakes up. You won't just hide in here until we reach Korriban and then disappear into all of that sand and all of those tombs in that desert without speaking to him, right?" When I nodded, Mira continued. "He was reaching out for me, clutching at my sleeve, grasping at Mandalore's armor, begging me to tell someone that he didn't mean it, that he was forced to do it , whatever it was, and that 'he killed her because he loved her and that should be all that mattered in the end.'" Mira brushed her sleeve across her face as though wiping a slate clean and then I saw the wet fingerprints on her jacket. Then she looked at me with a surprising sternness. "Whatever he was talking about, he's got enough bearing down on him without your moodiness. Go talk to him, be a Jedi for once, and maybe I won't have to call in your bounty after all."_

_And then she left me sitting alone in the engine room, the hyperdrive humming against my back and a half-empty bottle of juma in my hand. With a sigh, I got up and quickly hurried to the cargo hold where I dug through one of the cylinders and deposited the bottle under a mess of worn combat suits and deactivated mines. Convinced that it was hidden where it could tempt Atton no further, I made my way into the garage. Atton seemed to be passed out on a cot in the corner, partially under the swoop bike I never use, with his dark hair flopped over his face. Like a good Jedi, I resisted the urge to go over and push the hair out of his eyes. I frowned at HK as the assassin droid greeted me loudly and bade him follow me into the hallway. "So," I said after I figured we were far enough away from the garage, "you were one of Revan's assassin droids, huh?"_

_He instantly perked up. "Statement: Oh, yes, Master. Master Revan often bade we go out and slaughter her enemy meatbags."_

"_So, she sent you out on every mission she needed? Like, ones to kill Jedi? Because I know that Revan had a lot of Jedi killed and she didn't do it all herself. So, you're the reason for all of those deaths?"_

"_Clarification: Oh, no, Master. While I pursued many targets, Jedi were hardly my specialty. Master Revan preferred to leave the slaughter of Jedi up to those she felt to be best equipped to deal with them and that of course would be her own highly trained meatbags."_

"_So Revan liked 'meatbags' to do the job for her. And she trained them?"_

"_Statement: Yes, Master. She very much felt that droids, even droids such as I, were hardly innovative enough to take down such specimens as Jedi. However, she knew that any meatbag would need to know what makes a Jedi… tick, as you might say, Master."_

"_Tick?"_

"_Clarification: As in how to lure them out of safety and kill them. Being a Jedi herself, she knew what would work best and imparted that knowledge onto many others, elite teams designed for the sole purpose of annihilating Jedi."_

_I bit my lip nervously. "Can you –can you tell me what she told them? So that I can make sure that I don't get tripped up by any… Sith assassins?"_

"_Statement: Of course, Master. Revan would often…"_

_I heard them. Every single one of them. The things Revan taught her assassins to do, how to break the Jedi, how to isolate their loved ones and threaten their lives too. How to fire dozens of bullets at them, from every angle. I had heard enough. I didn't want to hear any more; I didn't want to hear about all of the ways I can die. I dropped a hint for HK to go off and talk to GO-TO about his assassination protocols and was consequently left alone in the hallway. I didn't want to think; I wanted to go and hide in the engine room again until we got to Korriban and I could bury myself in the sand. But I promised Mira and Jedi should keep their promises._

_I didn't want to wake Atton up; not yet, not when I felt so… dirty inside after listening to HK's gleeful descriptions. I wanted calm, quiet. I didn't want Kreia's voice echoing in my head. I found myself a little corner of the garage to meditate in and did so until Atton woke up._

Atton awoke several standard hours later with a horrible pain in his head. Bolting upright to stare at the wall, he immediately sank his head back down to meet the pillow. Light footsteps pattered towards him as he sat up again, more slowly this time, and turned about until he saw Arikal, her worried face framed by waving tendrils of blond hair. "Damn it, Arikal," he said, clutching at the side of his head. "What happened? What's going on? Did we," he winced at the throbbing pain in his head, "make it to Korriban?" Registering his surroundings, he then asked with an exasperated groan, "Force, Arikal, what the hell did I do?"

"Well," Arikal answered flatly after no deliberation; apparently she had preparing a response while waiting for him to wake up, "you told me that you fought for the Sith in the Jedi Civil War, then very kindly expressed your views towards Jedi in particular, then drank yourself drunk until Bao-Dur had to wrestle the controls away from you and Mira and Mandalore had to shove you into the refresher and put you to bed. Then you slept for a couple of hours and waited for you to wake up. We'll be at Korriban in about three hours, if you'd like to know."

"Damn it," Atton repeated. "I told you all of that? Was I drunk? Because, you really can't take anything I say when I'm drunk seriously, you know."

"No," she replied with a hint of a smile, "you were quite sober. But I've had a lot of time to think about it and I decided that it shouldn't change the way I feel about you. After all, you did desert them and you were just a soldier. I suppose that a soldier on one side is just as good as a soldier on another, right?" Atton was beginning to get up, shaking his head, but Arikal didn't seem to notice. She continued to speak at a rapid pace as though reassuring herself rather than him. "After all, it seems to me that you were following Revan rather than the Sith and that's understandable, I think. I'm not going to throw you off of the ship or anything; it isn't as though you were killing Jedi or something-"

"Actually," Atton interrupted, feeling that it would be best to get the worst over with quickly, "that's exactly what I did. Kill Jedi, I mean."

Arikal froze. "You killed Jedi," she repeated slowly with little inflection in her voice. "So, Revan's Jedi killing teams that HK told me about… that was you…"

"Yes," said Atton uncomfortably, "that was me."

"And all of those… techniques that HK told me about: attacking a Jedi with a dozen blaster bolts all at the same time, putting the lives of their loved ones in jeopardy… you knew those techniques. How to make a Jedi break. You knew how to do that."

"Yes," agreed Atton. "I knew how to do that. I've tried to forget but it isn't the sort of thing one forgets easily."

"And I'll bet that you were good at them." There was no emotion in her words; they were simply a statement of fact. "I'll bet that you were pretty damn good at killing Jedi. Those mind tricks you use, _Pazaak in your head_," she spat out spitefully, "those aren't for fun like you'd have me believe; they weren't your own inventions. They were things Revan taught you, ways to keep the Jedi out of your head while you tortured and killed them. And you're good at keeping Jedi out. You were good at killing them too."

"I was," he confirmed. "I'm not anymore." He hesitated for a moment and then asked because he could not think of anything else to say, "So, yeah. Are you mad?"

Then he watched as Arikal's hand swung back and smacked him across the face.

_Am I mad? Perhaps I am mad, in the sense of the word that means "distracted," "insane." Am I mad at Atton in the sense of the word that he meant? Yes but I do not think that I am as mad as he thinks I am. I'm not angry with him for what he was but rather because he did not tell me what he once was. Those are two different things entirely. One deals with matters of the past and everyone deserves a chance at redemption, no matter what they have done. But this is a fundamental matter of trust and I'm used to trusting the people around me. But how can I trust Atton if he refuses to trust me?_

_Well, I didn't give Atton much of a chance to explain himself. I basically slapped him twice, apologized without meaning it, and left him standing alone in the garage. I left. I went to speak to Kreia._

"_Something troubles you," she said as I came in. "What has the fool done to make you so upset?"_

"_Atton," I said with a tiny stress on his name, "has done nothing to make me upset. Jedi are in control of their emotions. Jedi can choose how to feel."_

_A sliver of a smile revealed itself under Kreia's hood. "Perhaps," she said, cunningly doing nothing to upset me. "Perhaps a Jedi can train herself to ignore emotions provoked by others. But to do so would be to ignore the command of the Force, to separate oneself from the tiny ripples that affect others. It is not something that an exile such as yourself can afford to do." _

"_Of course," I mumbled under my breath. "I should have known there would be more cryptic words." _

_Kreia smiled mysteriously. I suppose that she thought that she was humoring me. "The lessons I teach you are one and the same no matter how I choose to impart them. You may call my words 'cryptic' and claim that is why you cannot understand my teachings but in truth it is always up to you to understand what I impart. Yet you seem to comprehend the teachings of the fool better than any wisdom I convey. Why is that?"_

_I turned away. "Atton has nothing to teach me," I replied stubbornly. "He is a fool, just as you said."_

"_But a wise fool to make you think so," she surprised me by saying. "This 'Atton' is a strange fool indeed. He has nothing to teach you; he has something to teach you. And the strangest thing of all is that he thinks –he knows that, in the end, he has nothing to offer one such as you. And yet he dances in your shadow, awaiting your notice with bated breath. Why?'_

"_If Atton can teach me," I replied in a reasonable sort of tone, "that he does have something to offer. But what can he teach me?"_

_Kreia settled back down into her customary meditative position. "And that indeed is the question, isn't it? The fool will have his part to play, as we all do, but it will not be the part he expected. Perhaps he can teach you to forgive. But I grow weary and I feel that you have difficult times ahead of you. Rest, exile, and prepare, for Korriban awaits us all."_

_I turned to leave, sensing correctly that our conversation was at an end. But before I left, I turned back and said with conviction that surprised me, "Atton may be a fool, but he is _my_ fool."_

_I went and shut myself up in the security room; that's where I am now. I wanted to stay here until we reached Korriban, a place where I was sure that I would be doing too many important things to let my mind linger on this whole fiasco with Atton. I was certain that on Korriban, I could let the sands swirl around me and the desert swallow me up until I would be oblivious to all of my feelings, good or bad, towards Atton Rand._

_So, Bao-Dur showed up half-hour ago to tell me that we've landed and that Kreia has advised us all to remain on the ship until I go out. Although, I don't see why Atton can't just go out and have a nice little Pazaak game with the ghost of –oh, Force, Arikal! Those thoughts are not worthy of a Jedi!_

_Now he's knocking on the door. He wants –I've never really understood what Atton wants. It always seems to change. One hour, it's a Pazaak game; the next, Bao-Dur's bottle of juma. One day all he wants is to talk and the next moment he wants to yell. One moment, I catch him sweet talking T3 into giving him a computer spike and then I see him kick the droid for beating him at Pazaak. His mood is mercurial, like a changeling that can never decide on one appearance. I don't know what he wants from the galaxy and I don't know what he wants from me._

_Now he says that he wants to talk. It's tempting but sirens can sing sweet tunes that lead you to your death. He says that we need to talk and that I shouldn't be so finicky about just a talk but it's never just a talk with Atton. He terrifies me in a way and I have a feeling that he should terrify me. But I never did let him explain himself; I hit him before he could do that. Kreia said that I have something to learn from him and maybe he has something to learn from me too._

_Now he's threatening to kick down the door. I should probably go and let him in._

Atton threw up his hands in self-defense as Arikal opened the door. "You're not going to hit me again, are you? Because, Arikal, if you do that to every man who ever confesses something to you, you're never going to get past the second date."

To Atton's surprise, as he had fully anticipated being slapped again, Arikal laughed. "Let's talk," she said and guided him through the ship all of the way to the exit ramp. The ramp was down and a hot wind blew past them as the two of them, Arikal and Atton, silently surveyed the desert graveyard before them. Finally, Atton spoke. "You're not going to maroon me here, are you?"

She shook her head and sat down on the ramp, huddling her cloak around her petite form as she did so. Atton sat down beside her. "I spent a lot of time thinking about what you said," she began, "and I think that if you can forgive yourself for what you've done, I can –and will –forgive you."

He exhaled in relief. "So, does that mean that we're back to the way we were before?"

"I think that we're in a better place than where we were before. We're being honest with each other now, which I think is an improvement. But I have to ask you something: you deserted the Republic for Revan right? What made you desert Revan and the Sith?"

Her violet eyes searched his until he told her everything. As one confession led to another, those violet eyes grew wider and wider. By the time he finished his tale, the sun was directly overhead and waves of heat were beginning to rise off of the ground. When the exile found her voice again, she asked. "But why didn't you think that I wouldn't forgive you?"

"Because you're a Jedi," he responded bluntly. "You're like Atris; you do good things. The thought of Jedi being tortured and killed by one of your… friends… doesn't that distress you?"

Arikal shook her head, admitting, "I'm not a Jedi, Atton. I make fun of Kreia. I have fantasies of turning HK into scrap metal. I kick little Gizka." Atton smiled at that. "I borrow Mira's rocket launchers without asking. I am not a Jedi. I –" she hesitated. "I destroyed Malachor. Bao-Dur thinks that he pulled the switch, but he didn't. I did. I made him. It was the only time I ever abused the Force and I… I should be ashamed of it but I'm not." She looked back up at him. "I'm not a Jedi, Atton."

Silently, Atton nodded. They sat there a long time until he finally asked, "What did Mira tell you I said when I was drunk?"

She bit her lip. "When Mira and Mandalore were trying to take care of you, she told me that you said something like 'I killed her because I loved her.' When you were drunk, it was as though you were trying to atone for what you'd done, explain yourself. That… makes sense. Maybe that's why I still have nightmares about Malachor. Maybe… maybe I need to forgive myself. But you were drunk when you said that."

Atton snorted at that, beginning to regain some of his previous affectations. "I was drunk. I don't remember what I do when I'm drunk. But I do know this." His voice dropped in volume. "I know that the reason that Jedi saved me is so that I could find you, so that I could help you. Listen: there's a lot of danger out there, just waiting for you, and I've got a bad feeling about the return to Dantooine after we find Master Vash. It's going to be a long and dark time for you, for all of us but especially for you. I wanted to be a soldier, not an assassin. You need somebody to protect you and… I need somebody to protect. Let me protect you."

Silently, Arikal moved a little closer to Atton and gently leaned her head upon his shoulder. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her a little closer. Finally, she spoke. "You're Force-sensitive, Atton. That Jedi told you that. You said that you hate Jedi but I don't think that you want to hate Jedi anymore. I could train you. If you really wanted to protect me, you'd become a Jedi. That's what Jedi do; they protect the people they care about. And I think that you care about me."

As if in response, Atton's arm around her waist tightened just a fraction and, together, they watched the sands of Korriban go drifting away. 


End file.
